Exploring Reality
by NotYourBestFriend
Summary: Edward is a therapist, that will take anyone you throw at him. Bella is a teenage girl, with severe emotional issues. They couldn’t be more different, yet Bella finds herself telling him everything. Dark Themes, Rated M for future chapters.
1. This Is Me

**Any man can be a father. It takes someone special to be a dad. ~Author Unknown**

Bella Swan, 2005, 13 Years Old

I unlocked the door to the apartment, dreading what I would find when I opened the door. I pushed the door open, slowly and peeked my head around. I scanned the living room and what I could see of the kitchen, wearily. Phil didn't seem to be anywhere in sight, and that pleased me to no end. I opened the door and tossed my back pack on the couch on my way into the kitchen. As long as Phil wasn't here, I could do whatever the hell I wanted, and I intended to take advantage of that. I waltzed into the tiny kitchen and swung open the fridge. I frowned at its contents, disappointed. I had no money for lunch today, and I thought there might be some left over Chinese food from last night in here, but I wasn't surprised it was gone. Phil ate everything, just so I couldn't. He told me all the time that I was a fat little free loader, who didn't deserve lunch or dinner for that matter. I ignored him obviously. I knew I wasn't fat. I was a normal, healthy weight for my age and I was not going to let that pig get inside my head.

I pulled what was left of the peanut butter out of the pantry and made a mental note to get some money from Renee's purse. That's right. I called her Renee, because that woman was not my Mother in any way, shape or form. I hated her and her scum of the Earth husband. I couldn't wait until I was back in Seattle with Dad and Emmett. I really missed Aunt Sue's cooking lessons. Renee never made anything; she always just brought home fast food or bags of chips. I was dying to get my hands on some of Aunt Sue's famous three cheese lasagna. I was drooling just thinking about. I looked sadly down at my peanut butter sandwich and sighed. Soon. I would be home very, very soon. After all, today was Dad's visiting day. I felt bad making him fly down here every month to see me, but I didn't tell him that. If I did, then he might stop coming and I just couldn't imagine being completely stranded here.

I took a water bottle out of the fridge, letting myself be amazed at the fact we even had water in the place. I looked around the room in disdain. This place was a real dump. I hated that Renee dragged me all the way out here to live in this hole in the wall trash bin away from my real family. I set my sandwich on the table with my water and pulled out one of the lawn chairs for me to sit on. I was about to take a bite of my sandwich when a loud voice rang out from behind me.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

I snapped my head around and glared at the flea bag standing in the kitchen doorway. He looked like a convict with his head shaved like that, and I wanted to tell him that so badly. But, to be perfectly honest, I was convinced he would hit me if I ever made a comment like that. He'd never been violent before, but I just got this feeling about him. He was a creep. He was always staring at me and refused to answer to anything but 'Daddy'. But Phil was most certainly not my Daddy and I had no intention of every referring to him as that.

"Are you going to answer me?" He demanded, his voice going a little louder. Phil wasn't used to being challenged. Renee bent over backwards to make him happy, but then went behind his back and slept with strangers while he was at work.

"I wasn't planning on it." I shook my head, trying to stay nonchalant. It didn't matter what I said right now. Dad would be here in a little while and Phil wouldn't have time to do anything worthwhile to me. I sat smugly in my seat, still chomping away at my food. I had peanut butter stuck to the roof of my mouth and was trying to push it off with my tongue when Phil came charging over. He grabbed the sandwich out of my hands, angrily.

"What did you just say to me?" He hissed, throwing my sandwich on the floor. That was okay. Dad would probably take me out for pizza when he got here. We never stuck around this joint when he came to visit. Maybe this time Emmett would come with him and we'd go to the movies like we do at home. But I knew Emmett probably wasn't going to come. He was getting settled at college right now with his girlfriend. I think her name was Roxie or something beginning with an R.

"I said, I was not planning on answering you." I repeated, keeping my voice clear and strong. He wasn't liking that one bit. He grabbed my arm, pulling my up out of my chair. His grip was painfully tight, but I showed no emotion. I had learned to do that in this place.

"You have some respect, you ungrateful bitch," He spat, squeezing me tighter. "I'm your Daddy."

"Daddy?" I raised an eyebrow, challenging him. "I already have a Daddy, thank you. And he's going to kick your butt if you don't let go of me. I'll show him the bruises, I swear."

Phil gave me a sick, sardonic smile. He was pleased with this. "You really think that, huh? Well, what is Daddy going to say about this?"

I almost didn't see it coming. His big hand flew right across my face, making a sharp smacking sound. It took me a moment to register that I'd just been slapped. My cheek was burning and was most likely red. Tears sprung up in my eyes at the stinging, but I fought to hold them back. I was not going to let him see me cry.

"I don't see your Daddy anywhere, cupcake." He grinned. His yellow teeth were crooked and his breath smelled like fish. And not the sweet, cooked kind that Aunt Sue made. It smelled like the fish Emmett and Dad catch down at the lake during the summer, before we fry them. It was a rotting smell, sour and strong.

"Let go of me!" I tried to sound forceful, but I probably just sounded weak. I knew my voice quivered. Phil had never outright touched me so harshly before. He was nasty like this all the time, always making comments about Dad and Emmett. He called them horrible names that made me want to gouge his eyes out with a plastic spoon.

"What's your Daddy going to do about this, sugar?" He chuckled, pushing my backwards on to the floor. I caught my self just enough to keep from hitting my head. I landed on my butt, seating myself right under Phil. He towered over me and I nearly whimpered. My Dad was a cop. Can you really expect me not to have some idea of what was coming next?

He lowered himself to the floor, roughly. He grabbed my arms, shoving me backwards all the way. He pinned my hands to the floor and jabbed his thick knee in between my legs, spreading them apart. I tried to scream but no sound would come out. I was praying that a loud, high pitched shriek would erupt from somewhere deep inside of me and fast. But nothing was happening. I couldn't do anything.

He unzipped his pants and his junk nearly tumbled out. I looked long and squishy, not hard and masculine like I read about in the novels Renee had under her bed. I felt my face turn hot and fear built up in my chest. This was real, this was happening. He tried to pull my pants down with one hand, but I managed to make a groaning noise, squirming away from him. He was struggling to unbutton my jeans when I heard knocking on the door.

"Shit." Phil muttered. He put a hand over my mouth and scowled down at me. I was in tears by then, just with the knowledge of what was coming. I was hoping Dad was at the door and that I could call to him, but with Phil's beefy hand over my mouth, it was nearly in possible. My yells were muffled and he slapped me again, harder than before. "Shut your fucking mouth."

The knob jiggled on the front door, quickly. There was a bang, followed closely by my Father's voice. "Bella? Bella, are you home? It's me!"

I wriggled a little more, but Phil put all his body weight on me. What I just couldn't understand was why he wasn't ending this. My Dad was here, game was over. Couldn't he see that? He grunted and crushed his hand harder over my mouth. My teeth were digging into the inside of my lips and I tasted blood, faintly.

"Bella? Baby, open up!" Dad called, still jiggling the handle. "Bella, I know you're home! If you don't answer me, I am breaking this door down!"

God, yes, please do! Daddy, save me from this bad, bad man. I struggled so hard, I nearly got my hands free. I was screaming behind his hands but it all just sounded like a blurb of sounds. Phil was trying to be as quiet as possible, obviously thinking my Dad was just going to turn around and leave. But I knew my Father better than that. A moment later, without warning, there was a loud snap and I heard the door hit the wall. Phil jumped off me, trying to stuff his sorry excuse for manhood back in his pants, but it was too late. Dad bound into the kitchen where the noise was, looking frantic.

Phil was just standing there like the meathead that he was, with his junk still hanging out. Dad looked at me, struggling to sit up and Phil in the corner. He put two and two together and the whole atmosphere changed. The tense silence was filled with the sounds of Dad, lunging for the knife on the counter. I don't remember a lot after the first initial stab. It was like a rip, but it was squishy at the same time. Almost like he was stabbing a watermelon. It sounded like a clean cut, and that sickened me. I didn't have the stomach to watch whatever my Father was doing, and my brain would just not focus.

"You son of a bitch! You motherfucking child molester!" I heard my Dad grunting.

My Dad was killing Phil. That was all I could think. And in my head, I thought nothing badly about the idea of that. I was actually very fond of that thought. With Phil gone, Renee would fall into a deep despair, leaving me to freely go back to my good life in Washington with my true family.

Blood was the only thing that really stuck though. There was so much blood. It was all over the floor and all over my Father. But you know what was really weird? I mean, really just odd? As I was curled up in the corner, I thought about how much bleach it would take to get the blood off the tile. We definitely couldn't afford it. Maybe, just this once, I could use the famous five finger discount. How you steal something as trivial as bleach, I'll never know. Because I never got the chance to find out.

I didn't realize the humming in the background was Renee, blabbering away to a 911 operator that we needed help. Her crazy ex was trying to kill her husband and her daughter. If I had known what was happening, I would have borrowed the knife from my Dad and stabbed her in the neck. But I didn't comprehend what was happening, until the NYPD was charging in the place, leading my blood stained Daddy out the door in cold, metal handcuffs.

My Dad spent his last moments of freedom protecting me, I realized as Renee sobbed over her husband's now worthless balls. The other cops there were calling an ambulance and trying to calm her down. I don't even think they saw me over here tucked away in the corner. I knew my Dad was going to get hard time, even before his lawyer spelled it out for us. I just never thought he would get 25-Life for such a justifiable offense. The jury was a pool of morons, it was obvious. And the judge was clearly no prize either.

Because they sent my Dad to jail. They took away his freedom for protecting me.

Shit, I thought. We're totally screwed.

* * *

Bella Swan, 2010, 17 Years Old

Do you remember when you were little and you used to beg your Mother to buy you those insufferable Polly Pockets? And then we you finally got them and ripped open the package, all you could think about was the games you were going to play with them. All the stories you could act out, all the fantasies that could come true. I remember being so excited when I found all the odd positions I could make my little plastic people bend into. They were so shiny and little. It was so easy to make them do whatever you wanted. They never protested, they always just wore that sweet painted smile.

That's how I felt. Like I was a little shiny doll, being held on to by these big strong hands that just wouldn't let me go. I have no idea whose hands were holding me though. Were they Phil's? Were they my Father's? Were they Renee's? I never got close enough inside my head to figure out who was holding me. I always felt like people were bending me backwards, just to see what I looked like. So they could see how I looked in that awkward position. And on the rare occasion that the hands weren't holding me, I was discarded. I was left alone in a heap on the floor, with all the other dolls that had been abandoned.

Was this normal? I certainly don't have the answer to that. Perhaps my nice new therapist will.

No one is surprised I need to go to therapy. Everyone who felt sorry encouraged me with comforting pats on the back and sympathetic expressions. Everyone who was disgusted by me, was convinced it would make me a little less crazy. What they didn't realize was that crazy ran deep and there was no getting rid of it. Though I don't really consider myself an outright basket case, I knew I had some issues. My issues, being the drinking. Or maybe it was the violation. The horrible, demeaning rape of the soul I went through every day by just being alive. But I assumed I was being sent to therapy for the sex issue.

Sex was easy, and it was cheap. As long as you have a condom, you can do whatever you want. I don't enjoy it, God no. But it gives me a release that self inflicted pain never could. Cutting yourself was messy and burning yourself left scars. With sex, you got off and left the guy to take care of his mess elsewhere. The men wanted no commitment, they wanted nothing more than my body. I gave them what they wanted and in return, I was awarded with a moment or two of relief. Relief from the frantic jumble of thoughts racing around in my head, that made it impossible to do anything but curl up in a ball and submit.

But this was on the inside. Do you really think I could ever let anyone see what was happening in here? Oh, no. That was why I kept the mask. I stayed solid, so no one suspected anything was wrong. I was truly being sent to therapy because my family thought I was acting out for attention. Attention? The opposite actually. I chose this self destructive path and I wished to walk down it alone. I don't believe in shrinks and I find my time will be wasted tremendously by even setting foot in that door. But this was for my brother.

Not for me.

It was all decided two weeks ago, when I broke curfew. I had been doing that a lot lately and my brother was not too pleased. I knew he worried about my terribly, but I couldn't bring myself to care. I loved Emmett, God I loved Emmett. He was my life line and my very best friend. But authority was something I could not handle and Emmett felt like he needed to have a lot of that these days.

I was climbing through the window like I did every night for the past three months. I wasn't doing anything wrong, I was just wondering. There was nothing illegal or shameful about being a wanderer. I had successfully gotten through my bedroom window, thanking myself for choosing a bedroom on the first floor. There was a stump outside that gave me an easy boost to scoot in. I closed my window with a click, careful not to wake Emmett or his new wife, Rosalie. They had gotten married last year and I was deemed her Maid of Honor. I think I was only even in the wedding party because Emmett begged Rosalie to include me. I didn't want to be there, but I had to support Emmett, like he supported me. Ig he wanted me there, I would be there.

I had flicked my lamp on as I took my shoes off, feeling an ache. The heels were very uncomfortable, but I found that the sexier I looked, the more releases I received. Men liked good looking women. Do you think I would get anything at all from them if I was drowning in a sweatshirt, like I wanted to be. I turned to get my sweatpants from my the floor next to my bed and froze. Emmett was lying on my bed, flipping through a book that was laid out in front of him. He was smiling, almost like he was ignoring my presence. I was frozen, because I knew I'd been caught. But Emmett didn't seem to be angry or even very concerned. It was making me worry as the minutes passed and he stayed silent. He finally looked up at me, softly, like he was being pulled out of a dream.

"You remember this kid?" He murmured, pushing the book towards the end of the bed where I was standing. I peered down at it, feeling very confused. It was a picture of me. I was probably about six years old, all smiles and hugs. I was wearing a ballerina tutu and a Mets jersey. I was missing one of my front teeth, but appeared to take no notice in that. I looked happy.

"Where did she go?" He finally whispered, staring intently at me. I glanced up from the book, dreading to meet his eyes. Emmett had the most playful personality all the time, but at this moment and at this hour…he looked so unhappy. He seemed so lost and it broke my heart. But I was also secretly thrilled that I wasn't the only one.

"I really miss that kid," He continued. "She was pretty cool. She used to make me play Barbie's with her and push her on the swings. She used to run behind me on the play ground when kids picked on her. She used to smile when something made her happy."

I continued to stare at his mouth. His lips were moving and I was definitely listening, but all his words just sounded so false. Like a bad broken record that never stopped playing.

"I see that kid around sometimes. She always smiles and says hi, you know. But then I don't see her for a few weeks. Sometimes it's even months before she makes contact again." He gently explained to me. "I really want to find her. For good, Bella."

I looked anywhere but his face now. I stared at the walls, the floor, the ceiling, anywhere but his face. If I saw his face, I would cry and I was not having any of that.

"Can you help me find her?"

That night, after Emmett's little show of affection, Rosalie took me in to the living room and sat me down. She made coffee, but it was clear that it was only to keep her hands busy. Rosalie was a really great woman. She was tough, but was really sweet when you needed her to be. She was talented but was also extremely defensive and that made her all the more challenging to Emmett. He liked to hassle with her. It made him feel stronger.

"Bella, I don't know what's been going on with you, but it has to stop." She announced. Emmett had gone up to bed. Rosalie claimed we were having a girl to girl chat. "You're going to give your poor brother a heart attack, staying out at all hours like that."

I stirred my coffee, intently. She was still chattering away over at the counter. She had made a pot already, but after she tasted it, she decided she needed to try another. Rosalie couldn't really cook, but she was very OCD about perfection. The house was spotless, her marriage was ideal and she was flawless. Having such a mess floating around her must be driving her up the wall.

"Is it school? Is it boys?" She guessed, pouring her new batch into a coffee cup. Of course it was not the one she used moment before. That one wasn't perfect anymore. It had remains from the last, problematic batch on the rim. No way could she ever use that again. "You know, this whole mute act is getting pretty ridiculous.

Mute _act_? She thought my pain was an act? Was this woman for real? I couldn't help myself. I tried to bite back the words coming up my throat, but it was like vomit. Explosive and impossible to keep from happening.

"Ridiculous? You haven't seen ridiculous, Rosalie. Being silent is a choice and you cannot even try to tell me it is hurting anybody but me." I snapped. She looked a little taken back. I had hardly said two words to her in the past few months and I assumed she obviously thought I was just going to sit there and take her shit.

She shook her head, gaining control back. "Well, whatever your problem is, it needs to be solved. That is why, while you were out, Emmett and I made you an appointment to see a psychiatrist. Starting Monday at four o'clock."

I stopped stirring and stared at her. She set her cup down, clearly feeling good about stunning me and retreated up the stairs. Yeah, that's right, Rosalie. Don't take in all of me at once. You wouldn't want me to have the chance to fight back or anything. Lousy good for nothing bitch.

And that was how it started. I was silent the whole rest of the weekend and refused to come out of my room. My door was securely locked and I went out my window ever night to explore. I didn't know what I was exploring, but it was something important and different every night. Seattle was a good sized city and held a lot for me to pursue. Every night, I left the confines of my bedroom and ventured out in to the night. You saw a lot in the city, when you wandered the streets. I got a chance to do this sometimes in New York, and it was a whole lot more refreshing than this place, but I had no room to judge.

I saw prostitution and drug dealing at its fullest out here. I liked to sit on street corners with the girls while they waited for johns. It was an odd hobby to have, but the girls were nice and left me alone. I'd been mistaken for a hooker myself a few times, but the men always left politely after I corrected them. I guess they knew messing with a young girl that actually did have a family to report her missing wasn't the greatest idea. Oh, if only these men knew what my Father was in for. That'd keep them all away.

On nights when business was slow, the girls talked to me. They asked me what I was doing out here and where I was coming from. I always gave them short answers, not wanting to seem so strange for wanting to be in their presence. Usually, I read or did homework while I was sitting out there to keep myself occupied. I had no interest in watching them leave with their johns. Seeing them come back was what I was there for. I had thought about selling myself before, but I knew that ultimately, it wouldn't give me the same release I got from doing it freely. And besides, it felt a lot less dirty when you aren't doing it for a paycheck. A paycheck means its something your work at and I don't work at sex. I am a submissive role no matter what, and I let men do what they please. As long as I'm safe from actual, I'm open to anything. And knowing the things I've done brings tears to my eyes when I think about it.

I picture my Dad being stuck with a pin every time I'm alone with a man. His little girl is out here unsafe and unprotected with odd men and he was in a jail cell for trying to keep her out of harm's way. I know it must kill him inside. But I try to forget about that and go along with my day.

On Monday afternoon, I was picked up from school by Rosalie, just to make sure I made it to the session okay. I snorted when she said that because I knew it didn't matter to her if I showed up without a leg, as long as I was there she was happy. She thought she could train me to become someone different then who I was. I had no plans to really get anywhere with this quack. Who could solve my problems and better than I could myself? No one, that's who. But Rosalie and Emmett refused to listen, so I climbed into Rosalie's glossy red convertible and didn't say a thing.

We arrived at a tall building labeled, Seattle General Hospital. I sneered at the letters, letting my discomfort be shown. General Hospital? How nice and dramatic of them. I suppose they had a rubber room waiting and ready for me in the psych ward, complete with a straight jacket and two big nurses with sedatives. I honestly wouldn't be surprised if that were to happen. I was going to be deemed a lunatic; I had a feeling in my gut. Being here would not solve my problems; it would only make them worse.

Rosalie led me to the fifth floor, quickly. She had a nail appointment in twenty minutes and just couldn't be late or Dawn would throw a fit. I rolled my eyes as she frantically explained this, trying to force me to move my legs faster. I took great pleasure in her annoyed face and even giggled a little when I went straight for the stairs instead of the elevator.

"It's good exercise, Sis," I told her, innocently. "You look like you need some."

So, for the rest of the ways up the stairs and in to the lobby, I got to hear Rosalie on the phone with her personal trainer and set up an appointment for tomorrow. Rosalie was a trust fund baby, no doubt about that. Her parents died in a car crash last year and left Rosalie everything. One month later, Rosalie and Emmett were standing at the altar saying I Do. She showed no grief and that bothered me to know end. My Mother was a delusional hag, but I'd be a wreck if she suddenly dropped dead somewhere. It would tear me apart.

"She has an appointment with a Dr. Cullen for today at four o'clock." Rosalie announced to the lobby, pointing at me. I rolled my eyes as heads swiveled to look at me. A few eyes widened at the mention of this mysterious Dr. Cullen and I heard a few whispers. The receptionist looked confused to say the very least.

"Are you sure, Miss? Dr. Cullen usually only takes…very corrupt cases." She informed Rosalie, glancing at me. What? Just because I wasn't eating my own hair or threw babies out windows, I wasn't good enough for this guy? Rosalie started tapping her peeling acrylics on the counter and gave the receptionist a hard look.

"Trust e, she's a horrid." Rosalie sighed. "Can we please move along? I have to leave and she needs a babysitter."

I rolled my eyes for the hundredth time since we've been here. The receptionist seemed very intimidated by Rosalie and I couldn't blame her. She was a force to be reckon with. She looked in her computer and slowly turned to me with a raised eyebrow.

"Isabella Hale?" She asked me.

Rosalie said "Yes" at the same time I corrected her, saying "Swan". Rosalie shot me a look. Realization dawned on me and I gasped. Rosalie didn't want me to ruin her reputation by using my real name, so she was making me use her maiden name. Fuck you, Rosalie, I thought as I burned holes into her head with my eyes. The woman ignored me, making a smart decision and focused on Rosalie.

"Alright. Dr. Cullen is right down the hall, third door on your right. He'll see you now." She announced, clicking away on her keyboard. Rosalie pulled me aside before I walked back there and scowled at me. Even with her perfect face it terrified me.

"You better not get into any trouble while I'm gone, you hear me? This is my reputation, not yours. People already know you're crazy, I don't need them knowing I gave up on you." She hissed, cutting off the circulation in my arm. And I made a split decision, angry that she was being so judgmental. I promptly spit in her face and yanked my arm away. She made a choking noise and I ventured down the hall, third door on the right. I stopped when I was in front of, unsure of myself. Do I go in? Do I wait from him to open it? Wouldn't I have to knock for him to know I was here? My inner battle ended when a hand tapped me on the shoulder, causing me to cringe a little and turn around.


	2. This is Crazy

_What's your name, my name is Pain…._

* * *

The man looked to be in his thirties, and was very tall standing next to little petite me. His hair was an odd bronze color and it was messy, sticking up all ways around his head. I noticed his eyes, that were particularly green in this fluorescent light. He looked incredibly friendly and that unnerved me, causing me to back away into the door. He must be new here, maybe visiting a family member, I thought. No one that beautiful spent their days helping weirdo's like me. He stuck his hand out with a wide grin spread across his face.

"Hello," He began. "You must be my four o'clock. I'm Dr. Edward Cullen, you have to be-"

He glanced down at a paper in his hands.

"-Isabella Hale?"

I was about to correct him when I remembered Rosalie's warning. I rolled my eyes at her absurd notions. Reputation my ass. Who really cared what was going on in Rosalie's life, except Rosalie? And how on God's green Earth did she expect me to make in anywhere in this therapy if I was not allowed to be myself? Though I found myself immensely surprised that he was my doctor.

"Yes." I answered, quietly. "It's Bella actually."

Dr. Cullen smiled, holding his hand further out. I gave my head a soft shake and he immediately understood. He retracted his hand, giving me an apologetic look. I would have taken it offensively, had I known him more than two minutes.

"Well, shall we begin?" He suggested, moving past me to open his door. He held it open for me and I slithered past him like a snake. I stood perched myself awkwardly on a chair in the corner and waited for him to get his notes together. He flipped through a file, quickly before having a seat on the couch. When Rosalie told me I was going to a therapist, I pictured someone like Robin Williams in License to Wed. Or, Oprah perhaps. I never in my wildest dreams would have guessed this man was a therapist. Perhaps a male model or a hot shot host for some reality show on MTV. But a therapist? That was so far off what I was thinking when I saw him. I cleared my throat, and he smirked down at the paper he was examining. Maybe he wanted to put that down so he could examine my head like he was supposed to.

"Well, Miss Hale, you seem to be anxious to get started, as am I." He said, winking at me behind the think dark frames he was wearing.

"Anxious isn't the word I would use." I mumbled, tucking some hair behind my ear.

Dr. Cullen raised an eyebrow, jotting something down. "Would you like to talk about that?"

"Wow, you just jumped right in there, doc." I joked, weakly. He laughed nervously with me.

"I'm sorry, would you like to talk about something different?" He guessed, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

I gulped. "I'd actually prefer not to talk at all, but that isn't really what you do here, is it?"

Dr. Cullen gave me a hard look but seemed to be patient with me. "Yes, actually, it is very necessary for you to speak in the sessions we have. Do you have problems with speaking to new people?"

He was spot on, but it would be weak to let him know he was right. I shook my head, nervously. I played with a lock of my hair, and pondered how it would turn out if I shoved a lock in my mouth and ate it all up. Would he still keep that calm face or would that phase him a bit? Maybe I would dangle a baby over a balcony later, you know, just for kicks. But that might be a little too Michael Jackson for the current situation.

"Actually, Bella, I'd like to start this off with a little game I like to play with my younger patients. Not to insult you or your maturity level, but I just think it might help in our case." He explained to me, jotting something down vaguely.

"You're the shrink." I shrugged, at least attempting to get comfortable in this chair. "How long do I have to stay here anyway?"

That brought on a whole new flurry of notes. I saw him flip a page and he hurried to scribble down some other things.

"It's a get to know each other game, you could say," He began. "Here is how you play. I will say something about myself, and you will respond with the a matching fact about you. For instance, if I were to say my favorite food was roast beef, you would tell me your favorite food was spaghetti."

"I hate spaghetti." I blurted out. He smiled at me gently and continued to write in his freakin' notebook. Hey, buddy, remember me? I'm the crazy girl that you're supposed to helping! What is he writing anyway? He was probably writing down super secretive garbage about my inner soul or some other shit resembling that.

"I happen to love Italian. See, we're learning already." He was obviously pleased with my apparent progress. I rolled my eyes. "Shall we start?"

"Proceed." I nodded, giving him an open hand gesture. He poised his pen, all ready for me to say something soul bearing.

"My name is Edward Anthony Cullen. I am thirty three years old." He announced. Thirty three? He was about fourteen years older than me. When I was born, he was fourteen, probably jacking off in his bathroom to the latest issue of Southern Living. Because, trust me, I grew up surrounded by Emmett's immature pals. Baked goods make them crazy with desire. Why do you think I can't make cereal?

"My name is Isabella Marie…Hale. I am seventeen years old." I mirrored him. I saw his lip turn up, ever so slightly. This guy was doing a lot of suspicious grinning. I shifted in my seat, all the horrible possibilities zooming through my head.

He finally looked up at me, sheepishly. "I know you're name is Swan, you know. I looked in your file. It's alright, though, I won't say anything. A lot of people are embarrassed, they often use fake names like you. Usually we have Smiths and Williams coming through this place though. Hale is quite refreshing."

I stuttered a bit, choking on my own words. I wasn't sure whether I should tell them it was Rosalie or if I should just go along with what he was saying. I was really feeling Anti-Rose today and wanted to rat her out, but I was afraid he might be the one guy that actually cared about Rosalie Hale- ehmm, Swan's- reputation. If he spread it around to her little society friends and word got out she had an insane in law, my life would be Hell. Well, Hell with a little more deviancy thrown in the mix.

"My favorite food is Chicken Tetrazzini-"

"I thought it was roast beef?" I cut in, suddenly feeling very stupid. He was obviously just using that as an example before. Before he could respond to that incredibly dumb comment I shared my part. "My favorite food is…peanuts."

"Peanuts?" Dr. Cullen repeated, amused by my answer. At least he'd forgotten about the roast beek conundrum.

"Yes, peanuts." I parroted back to him. I blushed, feeling my face go hot and clammy. Dr. Cullen had just made it sound like such a dirty word. Dr. Culled made it sound like I just told him I like to eat drenched pussy with a side of swollen cock.

"We'll come back to that psychological mess later." He murmured. There goes the God damn pen again. Notice how I said _the_ and not _that_. This pen was _the_ God damn pen. It was the original God damn pen, not the runner up or the stunt double. This was _it_. This was the God damn pen and he needed to be destroyed. Swiftly and carefully.

"My favorite color is white. It's very open and friendly. Kind of like me." He smirked, joking with me a little.

"My favorite color is black." I said, blankly. He would think whatever he wanted about me. He could think I was some Wemo Goth kid that slashed her wrists and wrote angst filled poems about death and despair. I might seem a bit more normal than I actually was if I really did that.

"Very restricted and lonely." He noted, nodding his head. Scribble, scribble, scribble. "Duly noted."

"What are you trying to do?" I suddenly snapped. It was the God damn pen again. It needed to be burned, buried and forgotten. Right Fucking Now. "Are you trying to be my friend? Because if you are, it's not working."

He seemed a little taken back and glanced down at his notebook.

I could hear his thought right now. Weak, timid little Bella just snapped? Eke gad! Where was this reformed Hells Bells coming from? Perhaps the deep dark depths of her inner sanctum? I should record this all down. Where is the God damn pen?

Because even to him that pen wasn't just a pen. It was the only God damn pen out there. End. Of. Discussion.

"Are you feeling particularly hostile towards me, Bella?" He asked, kindly. "It is perfectly alright if you are."

I growled in the back of my throat. I didn't need him telling me what I already knew. I was here to get supposed help for my struggling 'Depression' and 'Trauma'. That's what Rosalie called it. I called it 'Indifference' and 'Memories'. But I had to admit, if Rosalie believed that Dr. Cullen could help me then this man must be some sort of angel maker, because Rosalie wouldn't believe _God _even if he shot down from the clouds like Will Ferrell. She's a tad paranoid, you could say.

"Bella, I am not trying to be cliché or tell you things you already know." He assured me. Was he a mind reader now too. I knew for sure that this man had a severe case of over active optimism. Smack some sense into him right now. "I think this session is over. I'll expect you back on Wednesday, correct?"

He strutted over to his desk in the corner, going through what seemed like a planner. I sighed. I should have known this wasn't a one time thing. When Rosalie commits to something, she _commits_ to something. Even on things that shouldn't even involve her.

"That's the game plan, Rock." I nodded, standing up awkwardly. He glanced at me and mumbled something under his breath. Loser? Dumb fucking kid, get out of my office? I wasn't particularly interested. He could say whatever he wanted about me. I had no debt to him and I was not ashamed to be myself, not matter what people like Rosalie Hale said.

I walked out that door with the intention of never coming back. But I knew my ass would be back in that chair at four sharp, come Wednesday afternoon.

Wednesday came very quickly, much to my disappointment. Emmett pestered me with questions about the last session all the time. Was it helpful? Did you enjoy it? Do we need to buy those little packs of tissues? I answered no to every single question. I had even looked at Rosalie when he asked me that last one and said,

"Not unless Rosie needs to wipe the jizz off her stomach. Push and pull, baby. Push and pull."

They left me alone after that.

Rosalie took me again, not letting me drive myself, for fear I might not even show up. She had been furious on Monday about the face thing, but Emmett calmed her down before he came to pick me up. She had given me dirty looks all night and most of yesterday, but I chose to ignore her. It was not the first time I'd gotten dirty looks and it would not be the last. People often did not like me. In New York, in Seattle, even in La Push. Everyone wanted be away from them, but wherever I disappeared to, the people there didn't want me either. New York, La Push, New York, Seattle. That was how it went. Each time I drifted, it was shittier then the last.

"Move your ass," Rosalie hissed back at me, as we once again took the stairs. "You're making a scene."

I was not, in fact, making a scene. I was walking at my own pace up a deserted flight of stairs that consisted of me, Rosalie and the elderly gentlemen behind me, that I'm sure had no problems with my pace. He was at least ten steps behind me.

The receptionist waved me right in this time, fearing Rosalie again. Rose stood at the door, grumbling about having to walk me up like I was a child. I had told her she did not need to walk me up, but Emmett insisted. Emmett would have been thrilled to take me here, but he was at work and he wouldn't be able to keep a straight face with a therapist.

I walked right in to Dr. Cullen's office this time. He was not my friend, and I was not going to give him respect like he was. Knocking was a sign of respect and friendliness, and I would not give him that. He was seated in the chair across from the green leather couch near his desk. He was flipping through a folder when he saw me.

"Ah, hello, Bella. Have a seat, please." He greeted me, motioning towards the couch. I walked over and sat on it, trying to be confident. I would have liked it if Oprah was my therapist. She was a woman, she did not have a God damn pen, and I did not find her particularly attractive. Dr. Cullen was the opposite of all of that. He was male, he carried a God damn pen, and I found him extremely attractive.

"I don't have to lie down, do I?" I checked. He shook his head, continuing to write. What could he be writing? I've been here five minutes!

"Alright, Bella. Today, I'd like to ask you a series of questions. It would be greatly appreciated if you answer, but I will give you one pass. Just one." He explained to me.

"You're the doctor." I shrugged, leaning back and crossing my arms. He glanced at me.

"Yes, I am a doctor, Bella. What would you like to do with your life?" He asked, trying to be pleasant.

I was silent. I'd given a lot of thought to my life over the years. There were so many doors open, but too many doors meant too many options. I really wanted to do something to make my Father proud. I wanted to do something that would have meaning to everybody I was trying to please. But I didn't want to be something that would make me miserable.

"I want to be a detective." I answered, quietly. "In New York City."

Dr. Cullen looked impressed. Before he could write anything down, I found myself getting up and grabbing the pen out of his hands.

"If you're going to write notes about me, at least let me know what you're saying." I growled, tossing the pen to the floor. Dr. Cullen ogled me, almost proudly. Like my outburst was some sort of image of the progress we had made. Whatever. Two days, big whoop. I put up with Phil for three years. In fact, I'm still putting up with him.

"Alright," He nodded, slowly. He took a pen out of his shirt pocket and clicked the bottom. He looked at me while he wrote his latest report. "Patient is angry. Has hostile feelings towards the situation and the idea of getting help."

"I don't hate the idea of getting help! I don't know what I need help with!" I snapped.

Dr. Cullen raised an eyebrow and flipped to the back of the folder he held. He cleared his throat and began to read. "Isabella is often indifferent towards all situations and angry when challenged. She has no boundaries and goes out at all hours against our wishes. She has a traumatic past that involves violence and sexual assault that makes her very closed off. She has unnatural feelings of hate towards her Mother and an unhealthy relationship with her Father. I fear she is doing drugs or possibly selling her body when she disappears during the night. She has no respect and no emotion. She is sarcastic and snippy when spoken to, even when you have said nothing insulting or remotely unnecessary. She needs help."

My mouth had opened at the sexual assault part and I didn't think I would be able to close it until I had killed Rosalie. No way in Hell Emmett would ever write that stuff about me. He knew how I felt about Renee and he knew exactly how I felt about Dad. I wanted to rip Rosalie's throat out with my teeth. How dare she say I have an unhealthy relationship with Dad of all people! He's the only one I have a _normal _relationship with. He is in prison because I couldn't keep my mouth shut. And the other shit she was spewing about my attitude? That was nothing! She wanted a bitch? When I get home, she's getting a bitch.

"Sounds like a normal teenager to me." I said through clenched teeth. Dr. Cullen made a clucking sound with his tongue.

"I noticed you got particularly tense at the mention of sexual assault. Is that a sensitive subject for you?" He guessed, setting his paper down.

"Why don't you ask a rape victim that? I'm sure you'd love to analyze her answer." I said, sarcastically.

"I was under the impression that you were a rape victim." He murmured, taking off his glasses.

I scoffed. "Hardly. My Step Dad got handsy. He pinned me down and started the car before he could even drive it anywhere."

He stared at me for a moment, thinking I would expand. "I understand your Father stopped him?"

I glared at him, hostile yet again. He probably had a blog where he wrote about all the crazies he encountered during the day. I was probably the number one topic. "Yes, my Dad stopped him. And now he's got twenty five years in Rikers for defending his kid."

Dr. Cullen looked taken back. I almost smirked. I liked seeing him shocked. It was almost satisfying enough to end the session. But he obviously had more to say.

"You're Father is in jail? Would you like to talk about it?" He asked, suddenly all concerned.

"I'd like to talk about the reason my dumb fuck sister in law sent me here," I growled. "I am here because she hates me. I'm not perfect and that ruins her little housewife fantasy. My Brother goes along with whatever the hell she says, because he has the same issues as me. Except he handles it by trying to control me. And let's face it, Doc- I don't like to be controlled."

Dr. Cullen pondered this. "No, I don't that's it."

My mouth fell open. "Excuse me?"

He ignored my expression and stood up. "We'll continue this lovely conversation on Friday, Miss Swan. Have a wonderful day."

Have a wonderful…? What?! I stomped out of his office in a complete daze. He just ended it. Right there, as soon as I shared a little bit of history, he ended it. Like I was a needy girlfriend that he needed off his back, not a troubled mental patient he was supposed to be helping.

Emmett was standing against his jeep when I came out. He was talking and talking, but I didn't listen to a word he said. He was clearly telling some sort of story because he was using hand gestures and he only used those when he was telling tales. I drifted in and out, nodding and rolling my eyes as he kept rattling on, even though it was clear I wasn't listening.

"And James threw it! He threw it, can you believe it, I mean…"

How could Dr. Cullen think for one second that what I said in there wasn't true. Rosalie hated my guts and was sending me to therapy for some magical cure. It was ridiculous and I hated her. I hated her, I wanted to bash her head on the curb of a sidewalk and scatter her teeth along the highway. What do you say about that laser whitening?

"It was crazy! She squirted it at his face and he chucked it at her. I don't blame him; she's crazy as a fox, but…"

And who did he think he was? Just because he was some miracle worker psychiatrist, didn't mean he had the right to be such an asshole! He told me to have a nice day. A nice day cannot be achieved after he got me all worked up with his stupid questions. What kind of help was he? Not the helpful help, I can tell you that right now.

"Oh, and before I forget, Rosalie's brother is coming to visit."

My head snapped around and I looked wide eyed at Emmett. "What?"

"You remember Jasper, don't you? He was at the wedding, you know, the tall blonde guy?" Emmett insisted. "You remember him!"

The tall blond guy? That really narrows it down, Emmett. I did not see one brunette on Rosalie's whole side of the family. There was one black guy who had dark hair, but he was like married to her adopted third cousin with a terminally ill aunt and blind little brother with herpes or something. It was too complicated for me to really give a damn.

Emmett went on. "He's bringing his girlfriend too, apparently. Her name is like Allison or Alicia. It's something with the root name Alice. But yeah, they'll be here Monday night for Jasper's birthday."

I groaned and hit my head against the window. "I don't want to entertain Rosalie's dumbass family. I hate her."

Emmett rolled his eyes. "You only hate her because she's enforcing this therapy business. I'm too much of a flake to actually make you go, you're lucky Rosalie is tougher."

I snorted. "Right. Being stuck with Rosalie is pure luck. Right on, Emmett, right on."

He gave me a warning look and continued to drive, adjusting the radio. We went from Lady Gaga to Matchbox 20 to Miley Cyrus and back to Lady Gaga. What can I say? Emmett loves his Paparazzi.

"I'm your biggest fan, I'll follow you until you love me…" Emmett sang, quietly, tapping his hand on the steering wheel when we reached a red light.

"I mean, and it's not just that. She's completely OCD. We should have her committed." I huffed, crossing my arms.

Emmett sighed. "Bella, I know you don't like her. You have made that perfectly clear. But please be somewhat pleasant to her brother, okay? No matter how big I am, I will always be teetering over the edge with Jasper."

We arrived home a few minutes later, with a few subtly sarcastic comments on my part. Emmett ignored all my insults, and I had to applaud him for that. He was most certainly not a flake, he was an excellent big brother. I felt a teensy bit bad letting hem believe he was. As soon as we walked through the door, Rosalie pranced through the living room and wrapped her arms around Emmett's neck, pulling him in for a welcome kiss. He complied with her not so subtle request, all too eagerly. I looked away, setting my bag down in the foyer when they broke apart.

"I missed you so much today." Rosalie gushed. I rolled my eyes. Yeah, she missed you when her personal trainer had his cock down her throat. She was really hoping you were there to get in on the action.

"How did my favorite girl's day go?" Emmett nuzzled her nose, lovingly.

I felt a pang in my chest. I used to be Emmett's favorite girl at one point. I remember being six and waiting at the door for Emmett to get home from school. He would sweep me up in his arms and call me his favorite little girl. Then, a few hours later, Dad came home and did the same thing. We were lucky if Renee came home at all. Emmett and Dad were always really affectionate. Hugging, kissing, tickling. They made me feel like the luckiest little girl in the world. I stared at Emmett with his arms wrapped around Rosalie's waist and I knew…

I'd been replaced.

I stumbled down the hall, actually fighting to hold back my tears. I had no idea why I was crying. I just felt so…abandoned. Emmett had always been my safety net, ever since I was born. I wasn't jealous of his romantic relationship with Rosalie, it wasn't like that. I just felt so cheated. I used to be the one he couldn't wait to come home and talk to. He used to pick me up and twirl me around, not caring if his friends thought he was a pussy for hanging out with his baby sister. He was _mine_.

I knew it was coming. Sooner or later, Rose was going to get pregnant and it would all be downhill from here. Who did I have if not Emmett?

Renee? Like she ever gave a damn about me or my well being.

Dad? He still had twenty years in Rikers to go. I was receiving no comfort there.

Phil? He was a rapist. Because God knows if Dad hadn't shown up, nothing would have stopped him from taking me on that filthy, horrid green kitchen floor. And no one would have ever known.

I had no real friends. I had a few people that I mildly trusted with my feelings, but no one that I would ever tell my story to. As far as everyone knew, my Mother was dead and my Father was in Iraq. That way, Renee was completely out of the picture where she belonged and Dad was a hero. Because he was a hero. He was my hero in disguise.

Babies were such unusual creatures weren't they? They were so little and breakable. They were so innocent, it almost made me want to cry. They could do anything, be anything they wanted. It was their start and I prayed for every baby out there every night. You might not think someone like me would pray, but I do. Every single night since everything changed. I had a list of things I had to pray for, that I added to periodically. Most everything worthwhile was on my list. I prayed for the needy and the poor and the hungry. I prayed for the young and the elderly. I prayed for animals and all creatures on the Earth. Everything was worth saving. I think that's why I wanted to be a detective. So I could catch the bad guys. So I could make the world a little bit safer, every day when I got up.

Sometimes, I went to Saturday night Mass at the local church. I am not about to get into a religious debate, but I am strictly Catholic. But you know what? I think it's funny as hell that that nut fuck crazy woman had the balls to jump the Pope. That is basically unspeakable. Unspeakable but makes me giggle every time I think about it.

"Bella! Breakfast is ready!" I heard Rosalie's sickly sweet voice call down the hall. I shuddered at the thought of Rosalie cooking my breakfast. I wouldn't be the least bit surprised if she poisoned my food and I woke up tomorrow at the gates of Heaven.

I trudged down the hall, already pleased with my outfit for the day. Rosalie would have a fit, Emmett would laugh and the day would go one. I pulled my jeans up, because somehow the motherfuckers always fell down to my knees and slipped on my converse. Rosalie detested my shoes, but she would rather me where these than the less than appropriate heels I wore at night.

Well...

… the ones I wore when I watched the prostitutes.

I had other things on my agenda sometimes. A lot of the time, I visited the children's center downtown. It housed kids that were waiting for foster homes in the area. I've always wanted to take them home with me, but Rosalie wouldn't hear of it. Emmett was jumping out of his seat when I suggested it, but Rosalie adamantly refused. She claimed that she wanted her own flesh and blood children. Not a crazk head baby that some fruit loop discarded like a piece of trash. She wanted the perfect child to place in her perfect little fantasy, which was quickly approaching reality.

I jogged into the kitchen and froze in place when I saw what was in there. I blinked a few times and then ran out the front door, rubbing my eyes. I ran into the front of Emmett's jeep while I was trying to erase the image with friction. I heard the front door slam shut and Emmett asking me what the hell I was doing. I couldn't answer him. I grabbed my book bag from the front seat of his car and ran to school.

I couldn't believe they had let me walk in on that.

Emmett had been straddling Rosalie on the kitchen floor.

**Authors Note: Hello, all you pretty little people! I am so incredibly glad you have decided to read this story. If I get 15 reviews this chapter, I will post another one tomorrow at the same time. Please, I know that no one wants to review on only the second chapter, but please? Do it for poor sad Bella! How's everyone liking ShrinkWard? I'm having fun writing about him? If anyone has any therapy secrets they want to share, it would help immensely. **

**Review! (It shuts Rosalie's fucking mouth)**


	3. This is Dinner

_Where do you live, I live anyplace…_

* * *

* * *

"You seem angry." Dr. Cullen stated as I plopped myself down on to the couch with a huff. I tossed my bag to my feet and glared across the room at the quack looking back at me. He looked so serene, analyzing my every blinking moment.

"No shit, Sherlock." He sat there, unfazed. "What? You're not going to write that down? You're slipping, doll face."

He smiled at the nickname. "I thought about what we could do to get you more comfortable with the situation, Bella. You very clearly don't appreciate my notes while I very clearly don't appreciate your shifty attitude. So, I've got a deal to offer." He announced, clearing his throat. "At the end of every session, I will read you everything I've written during the time we spent together. But only if you answer the things I ask you."

I snorted. "I could care less what you're writing about me. It's the constant scribbling that makes me nuts. And I don't agree to deals- I make them."

He raised a perfectly chiseled eyebrow. He totally got them waxed. "I do have real patients, Bella. Ones that are reaching out for help. Not retracting there plea."

I gaped at him. "I never pleaded to anyone! I certainly can't undo things I've never done!"

Dr. Cullen sighed. "Bella, you're sister asked-"

"That fucking psycho is not my sister." I growled. "I'm only related to her at all because she married my brother."

I have never liked Rosalie. Maybe a few times she was a bit nice, but most of the time she was just plain crazy. I told Emmett time and time again that I would rather eat dirt than live in the same house as Rose, but he ignored me.

"I notice you have nothing negative to express about your brother." Dr. Cullen noted, confused.

"Emmett is a douche for agreeing with Rosalie, but he's my brother." I stated, confidently.

He raised an eyebrow and I rolled my eyes. Of course he wouldn't understand.

"It's a sibling thing." I shrugged. He looked no more convinced.

"I happen to have a sister, Bella, and we fight like cats and dogs." He told me, sitting back in his chair.

"Well, are your parents divorced?" I asked.

"No."

"So you're Mother never fought for custody and took you away from your Dad?"

"I'm afraid not."

"And your Father never once stabbed your Step Father in the balls?"

"I can't say he has."

"So, that means you didn't cling to your sister for dear life after your Father was put in jail for defending you?"

Dr. Cullen gave me a nod. "I'm beginning to see your point. You and your brother are very tightly bound together and with Rosalie in the picture, you don't have his full attention."

"No! Are you kidding me? Shit. That's so….so…fuck. You're right." I huffed.

I never expected Dr. Cullen to actually get anything about me right. He was just so stupid and full of himself. He didn't know a thing about me…but he took some pretty good guesses. I hated that Rosalie was in the house with us. Emmett and I were doing just fine on our own. I was in school and doing well until POOF! A dumb blonde is standing over my shoulder while I do my homework telling me I was doing everything wrong.

"_This is Rosalie," Emmett announced. "Rosalie, this is Bella."_

_Rosalie cleared her throat, awkwardly. "You never mentioned you had kids."_

_Emmett gave her a confused look. "Oh no, baby, Bella ain't my kid. She's my kid sister."_

_Rosalie still looked uncomfortable. "I thought we were going to be alone._

_I took that as my not so subtle hint to beat it. I gathered up my books off the kitchen table and stuffed them in my backpack. I slung it over my shoulder and got on my tip toes to kiss Emmett on the cheek._

"_That's okay. I'm going to the library anyway. I won't be long." I told him giving Rosalie a warning look as I turned. "You kids have fun now."_

"_Be back by nine!" He told me on my way out the door. I was fourteen at the time, and hardly needed a reason to have a curfew. But I was sure Emmett just made that up off the top of his head and I respected that. So, when I came home at eight thirty and Rosalie's car was still in the driveway, I was angry. He wanted me home by nine, but didn't have the common courtesy to ask me if I minded his little girlfriend being there. I turned around with the intention of walking back to the library. But when I saw the hookers lining up on the corner, I got sucked in. That was the first night I sat with them._

_And the first night I snuck through the window._

"Can you tell me the things Rosalie does to make you hate her so much?" Dr. Cullen asked me, interested.

I snorted, throwing up my hands. "We're going to be here all night."

He looked surprised. "That many, really?"

"She's a bitch, for one. She needs everything to be majorly perfect. And not just regular perfect. Everything has to be up to her impossible standards. She took over the house, my house. She came in and changed everything. She got new furniture, she painted every wall in the place, and she got new carpeting and hard wood. She even took the pictures off the wall of when we were kids and replaced them with ones of her and her stupid fucking family! She manipulates Emmett into everything, whether its dinner or shopping or sending me to therapy. She buys everything she sees, but yet I've carried around the same backpack since the fourth grade!"

"She is always insulting my Dad, every chance she gets. She tells us that he's a convict and forbid me from going to visit home for the last three months! She is always gushing about how beautiful and well rounded my crazy ass Mother is which really does explain a lot about her. She's catty and mean and completely self absorbed. She purposely does shit to make me pissed, like fuck Emmett on the kitchen floor right after she called me for breakfast! She wants kids, but refuses to let the kids from the center come and stay with us, even though anyone in the state of Washington can become a foster parent!"

"She bitched about everything. She won't go grocery shopping because she always has yoga or a nail appointment or Botox. She's twenty five! Who gets Botox at twenty five? She is constantly criticizing everything I do and she told me the other day that the only way I would ever become a detective was if they suddenly began skipping the psych evaluations! How fucked up is that? She's bossy and sticks her nose where it doesn't belong. She comments on everything and anything, even if it has nothing to do with her. She is convinced my 'trauma' is an act, yet she sends me to this hell in a brick building every other day while she fucks her personal trainer. Do you need more, or can I stop here?"

Dr. Cullen looked like I just pulled down my pants and shit on the floor. He took a deep breath and for a minute I thought I might have over done it just a bit. But he ran his fingers through his hair and let everything I said sink in.

"This Rosalie sounds like a real bitch." He finally sighed. "And from everything you told me, you have every right to hate her."

I found a small grin appearing on my face. "You're serious?"

He smiled, slightly. "As a heart attack. Do you see how good that felt? Don't think of me as a shrink, Bella. Think of me as a friend, someone you can vent to. When you have a bad day, come in and tell me all about it. I'm really not here to judge you. I actually might surprise you."

I thought about this. The girls at school weren't exactly friend material and the guys were a completely different story. They were immature and made fun of me all the time for stupid shit like reading in the library at lunch. Dr. Cullen seemed a little different. Not like a friend per say, but he was somewhat comforting. He gave me a small sense of security that I never once feared was false. He was a nice guy from the looks of it and I found myself nodding my head.

"Alright. That actually sounds kind of nice." I admitted, shaking my head. "But there's one problem."

"And that is…?" He asked, trailing off.

"The notes. I don't want you to take anymore of them. Friends don't write down what other friends say to them in private. It's not right." I argued.

He gave me a smirk, setting his notepad down on the table in front of him. He tucked his pen into the breast pocket of his blue pin striped shirt. His khaki colored slacks went nicely with his shirt and I realized he was a nice dresser. It completely slipped my mind.

"Fair enough, Bella. I won't take anymore notes about you." He nodded, glancing at his watch. "But our time together is over, I'm sorry to say. I'm afraid I won't be in the office on Monday though. I have family coming to visit."

"You too?" I grumbled. "I have to deal with Rosalie's snotty brother and his new little bitch. Oh, the fun we'll have together."

Dr. Cullen chuckled. "See? It feels good."

I smiled a small smile and stood up to leave. As I approached the door and grabbed my bag, Dr. Cullen said my name. I turned around tucked my hair behind my ear.

"I love The Office." He grinned, looking pointedly at my shirt. I winked at him and left, feeling rejuvenated. I was very proud for some reason.

Oh, Dwight, I thought as I left the lobby smiling, I am so very glad Jim put your stapler in the Jell-O.

* * *

"Bella, hurry up. Jasper will be here in twenty minutes and the house is still a disaster." Rosalie said, frantically. I sighed and looked around the room. The kitchen was spotless; the granite counter tops were shimmering from the newly replaced light bulbs above us. The living room had been vacuumed and cleared. The coffee table held a few magazines and the remote, for our guests viewing pleasure. The couch had a blanket draped over the arm to show how warm our home was. If you could call it a home anymore, I huffed inside my brain. With Rosalie running around, it was like Nazi Germany.

I didn't go to school today, because Rosalie needed help around the house. Emmett didn't like me missing school, but Rosalie told him she needed help cleaning. But all Rosalie had cleaned today was herself. She took an hour long shower, did her make up for another hour and then spent two deciding on what to wear. In that time, I had cleaned the entire first level of our home. It really didn't matter what the upstairs looked like. All that was up there was Rosalie and Emmett's room and a few closets. The guest bedroom they would be staying in was across the hall from mine, much to Rosalie's distress. She didn't want her brother within two feet of me, much less two steps.

We heard a car pull up and Rosalie shrieked. She peered out the window and looked frantically back at me. "Quick, go to your room!"

Yeah. Because _I _was the turn off. I gave her the finger and she scowled at me, dangerously. I had the feeling if she was about twenty years younger, she'd stick her tongue out at me. But she just scurried to the door in the heels she took from my closet without asking, I might add, and opened the door before it would even ring. Standing in the doorway was a tall blonde man, who looked strikingly like Rosalie. I remembered they were twins when Rosalie threw her arms around him and gave a small squeal. The man grinned, showing off a set of perfectly white teeth. His eyes were the color of the Caribbean ocean, not resembling Rose's at all. His showed playfulness with a spark of awareness. Rosalie's portrayed hate and lust all day long. Hate for me and a dose of lust for Emmett. Frankly, I was glad it wasn't the other way around. Wouldn't that be a zinger?

"Rosie Posy!" Jasper chuckled, in a deep southern accent. I thought they were from Manhattan?

"Jazzy, honey, come on in! You remember Emmett's little sister, Bella." Rosalie gushed, gesturing at me. I nodded from where I was seated on the back of the couch. "Oh, you must be Alice!"

At this point, Emmett entered the room. He had been in the shower and was clean shaven and dressed. I was kind of mad at him. Stubble never hurt anyone, did it? He shouldn't primp for these bastards from South Fucking Manhattan. Hey! That would be a good movie title. The Bastards of Manhattan, 1, 2 and 3.

"Alice? Are you kidding me?" Emmett whispered, angrily in my ear. I laughed. He had been struggling for days trying to figure out what her name was. He didn't want to ask Rosalie, because she would know he'd forgotten and she would be pissed with him. So, he ran them by me every few hours to see if they sounded right.

"And you must be Rosalie!" A chirpy voice answered. Oh, Good God almighty. "I've heard so much about you."

Rosalie led them in the house, eagerly. She frowned when she saw I hadn't changed out of my jeans, but she didn't let anymore show. Emmett looked the part though. He put his arm around her waist and kissed her cheek, affectionately. Jasper put an around Alice's small frame and chuckled.

"Alice, this is my husband, Emmett and his sister, Bella. She lives with us." Rosalie explained, cheerily. Jasper gave a confused look to her. He'd obviously received some different info.

"It's so nice to meet you two! Jasper has told me all about you." Alice said, perkily.

"It's nice to meet you too….can I call you Al? Or Ali maybe?" Emmett asked, already forgetting her name. I snickered and Rosalie shot us both looks.

Alice beamed. "I'd love that! Can I call you Em?"

Emmett looked uncertain. "I guess, yeah."

Alice suddenly turned her attention to me. "Oh, and Bella? What a pretty name! Is it short for something? Annabelle? Arabella? Bonnie Belle?"

Bitch thinks she has jokes? I rolled my eyes.

"Isabella." I said in a clearly bored tone. "Bella works fine though, please."

"Oh, that's fine. My name is Mary Alice, but I am strictly Alice. And now I'm Ali!" She explained, way too happy already to be here.

It was silent for a moment, before Rosalie clapped her hands. "Bella, why don't you show Jasper and Alice to there room? You're rooms are right next to each other, you know?"

I grimaced and hopped off the couch, clumsily. They followed me with their bags down the hall and into the cheerful yellow guest room with a shiny white king sized bed and flat screen TV. This is where I disappeared to on particularly bad nights. It would be odd to have someone sleeping here.

They dropped their bags and turned to me, smiling. "Bella, I can tell we're going to be the best of friends. You seem great."

I snorted. "And you seem high."

She laughed and made sure Jasper was in the bathroom before pulling me closer to her. "Rosalie is a little high strung for me. I appreciate the simpler things in life and obviously you do too. I like your shirt by the way."

I was a little surprised. Alice just looked so comfortable with Rosalie already and it felt odd. I kind of felt like I was now in some sort of secret club. It made me giddy.

"Thanks, I guess." I shifted, uncomfortably. "So, you think Rose is a bitch too?"

Alice shrugged. "Not a bitch, exactly. Just…overbearing. Jasper has told me all kinds of stories about her that say it all, but he doesn't think the same thing. She's his twin; they have some kind of joint mind. There networks are connected, if you know what I mean."

I nodded. "Yeah, I get it. And I think you're right so far- we just might be friends, Mary Alice."

She giggled. "Good to hear, Isabella."

* * *

"Fuck you."

Rosalie did not appreciate that at all. I said this to her this morning when she told me my favorite pair of jeans make me look like a fat whore. But she phrased it rather nicely. She claimed I looked like a heavy trollop. I had to give her credit, that was a pretty good dig. But she was being a bitch, and I put her in her place. End of discussion.

It was Wednesday and I was in the car on my way to therapy. Emmett was taking me today because Rosalie refused to be anywhere near me. She said I was weakening her soul. I was under the impression she had a black hole in her chest that sucked in positive emotions, leaving negative to run wild. But that was just a theory. We had told Alice and Jasper I was going to a dentist appointment, but I'm sure Rosalie would tell them the truth while we were gone. She couldn't pass up a chance at sympathy.

"You be good for Dr. Cullen, you hear?" Emmett grinned, playfully. I smacked his shoulder with my palm. He laughed and stopped the car in front of the building.

"What? You're not chaperoning me?" I asked, getting unbuckled.

He snorted. "Rosalie goes overboard with that. I trust you, hon. Never forget it."

I smiled and shut the car door. Emmett waved and pulled away, slowly. I grinned as I walked into the building. I knew Emmett trusted me and that made me feel horrible and ecstatic at the same time. I felt bad because I was always sneaking out and lying to him, but I was excited because that meant I was still on his nice list. I was pretty positive I was on his shit list these days, but you never know with Emmett.

I skipped into the lobby and gave the receptionist, whom I'd learned was named Angela a great big smile. She smiled back, pleased that Rosalie wasn't here today. She told me to go on back and I complied. I hesitated only a little opening the door and peered inside. Dr. Cullen was sitting in his chair, waiting.

"Good afternoon, friend." He winked as I sat down. Was that a blush creeping up on my cheeks? How embarrassing.

"What's up, Doc?" I smirked.

He smirked right back. "Nothing much. My sister is in town this week. And you?"

I almost laughed. He really was trying to talk to me like I was a friend. It made me giggle, but I covered it up with my hand.

"I told you, Michael and Lisa are staying with us this week." I reminded him. He looked confused for a moment and then I saw it click. He laughed, amused with my joke.

"That's quite comical, Bella. I applaud that." He chuckled, putting his hands behind his head. "Anything in particular you'd like to share with me today?"

I thought for a moment and shrugged. "I told Rosalie to go fuck herself this morning."

Dr. Cullen looked impressed. "Why?"

"She told me I looked like a fat whore." I told him, still utterly offended.

He choked on air. "That's a horrible thing to say. Why do you think it made you so mad, though?"

I snorted. "Besides the obvious?"

He nodded, looking perplexed.

"I guess it reminds me of Phil." I shrugged.

He was confused. I could tell he was itching to go over his notes and remember who Phil was. "Phil is my Step Dad."

He gave a polite 'ah'. "And he used to insult you like that?"

"Frequently. At least, when Renee wasn't around. She might be a shitty Mother, but she wouldn't have stood for that." I sighed. "That's at least one good thing about her."

"Can you tell me more about your Mother?" He hedged. I laughed and shook my head.

"It's always the Mother with you people," I snickered. "But sure. She's a ten dollar whore that married a pedophile. She took me away from my Dad for amusement and landed him in jail for kicks."

"It's hebephelia, actually." He corrected me.

"What?" I blinked. I just told him Renee was a nut fuck and he's telling me about hepatitis?

"Phil would be a hebephile, Bella. A pedophile is someone who preys on prepubescent children. A hebephile goes after pubescent children. It might even be considered Ephebophilia, considering you were thirteen when it happened, correct?" He checked. I nodded, mutely.

"Is there a phile for just plain asshats?" I hissed. He smirked, knowingly.

"I believe that would be all of them, Bella. But did it particularly bother you when Phil insulted you as a child?"

I rolled my eyes. "Well, yeah. I was thirteen. You have the lowest self confidence ever at that age. It sucked."

"Phil was obviously a dominant personality, correct? I think he was a phile of some sort and wanted to dominate you because he knew you would be submissive. If he had gotten around to assaulting you, would you have told someone?"

I was silent.

"Exactly," He mused. "And your Mother is still married to him?"

"As far as I know." I mumbled.

He suddenly grinned at me. It was hesitant, but it was full blown. He seemed to be debating something in his head and finally he blurted it out,

"They can't possibly have a very good sex life!"

I burst out laughing. "Oh, they both have fantastic sex lives. Just not with each other."

Dr. Cullen seemed relieved I had laughed. He glanced at his watch, looking almost upset. He looked up at me sadly and his eyebrows went together. "It seems our time is up, Bella. Time sure flies when you're having fun."

I gave a small smile. I really wasn't looking forward to going to Jasper's party. We were having it tonight at this high class little restaurant on the pricey side of town. It was called La Bella Italia apparently. The beautiful Italian was the best they could come up with? I hate eating out. At least I wouldn't have a far walk to the children's center tonight. It would be a little late by the time I got there, so I would probably get a chance to talk to some of the older kids tonight. Most of them there were under fourteen, so it wasn't weird to hang out with an orphan by own age, you know? I sighed, pulling back to reality.

"I guess it does. If you can call your phelia shit fun." I mumbled, standing up and grabbing my bag.

He shrugged. "It was obviously fun for us. You said you have family in town? Are they here for any special reason?"

I gave a weak laugh. "For Rosalie's brother's birthday. We're all going over to come snooty restaurant uptown and stuffing our faces with snails and clams. You know, delightful dug up delicacies?"

"Good luck with that," He said,, sympathetically. "I have a family gathering tonight as well."

"Bring a knife. Those sort of things end violently." I advised him on my way out the door. I heard him laughing down the hall as I pulled out my phone to call Emmett. I was pleased with myself.

Dr. Cullen was slowly becoming…a friend.

* * *

"Happy birthday my ass." I muttered as the waitress seated us at a large table in the middle of the restaurant. Emmett nudged me to keep my mouth shut and Alice giggled from her spot a seat away from me. "What's with the extra seat?"

Alice smiled. "My brother is coming too. He's running late, but he'll be here any second."

I rolled my eyes. "Yay!"

Rosalie kicked me under the table. I winced. How long can her legs be? This table was like nine fucking feet long. What was she, Inspector Fucking Gadget? I glanced over at the bar in the corner, longingly. If I had it my way, I was getting drunk as fuck tonight.

"Well, this is just great, you guys. I'm so happy to spend my birthday with family." Jasper announced, putting his arm around Alice. Suddenly, the waitress appeared behind Rosalie. She had a fake smile on her face and notepad in her hand. It reminded me of Dr. Cullen and I grinned.

"Can I get you anything to drink?" She asked the table.

"I'll have a Gin Fizz, thank you." Rosalie announced.

"Can you make me a Pixie Stick?" Alice asked, cheekily. The waitress nodded, moving to Jasper.

"Scotch on the rocks." He told her.

"Just a plain old beer, thank you." Emmett said, happily. Rosalie scowled at him. Beer was code for dumb fuck squeeze.

She turned to me. I smiled, sweetly. "Rum and Coke."

She didn't bat an eye. She jotted it down and Rosalie's eyes widened. "She's only seventeen!"

I gave her a confused look. Alice and Emmett sniggered as I shook my head. "I turned twenty one last month, Rose. You know that."

She glared at me and turned back to the waitress. "She'll have a plain Coke."

"I'll have what I ordered, Rosalie." I growled.

"Ma'am, can I see some ID?" The waitress cut in, impatiently. I smile and pulled my ID out of my bra. Rosalie's head fell in her hands and she looked mortified. This made Alice giggle louder and Emmett clear his throat. Even Jasper cracked a small smile.

I handed the waitress my driver's license and she smiled, handing it back to me. She looked at Rosalie in disdain. "That says it all, Miss."

I snickered and shoved it back in my breasts.

**Isabella Marie Swan**

**Age: 21 **

**Height: 5'4**

**Weight: 101 lbs.**

**Seattle, Washington.**

It was a good thing I knew a guy, who knew a guy, who had a cousin, who had a brother, who knew a guy, who had a wife, who had a Dad, who had a dog, who had an owner, who had an aunt, who had an uncle that knew a guy.

"Excuse me?" A velvety familiar voice appeared from behind.

Alice jumped up out of her seat and hugged whoever was behind me. I had a feeling that if I looked, I would bang my head into the table. "Edward! Sit down!"

The chair next to me pulled out and I hid behind my hair. This was not happening, this was not happening, this was not happening…

"Hello, you must be Bella. Alice has told me an abundance about you."

I turned my head and saw the face of Dr. Cullen grinning at me. He held his hand out and I shook it, weakly. He smirked and held his other hand out to Emmett beside me. "And you must be Emmett, pleasure to meet you."

Emmett nodded, looking a little lost. "This is my wife, Rosalie."

Dr. Cullen waved to Rosalie across the table. She smiled, a big cheesy fake smile and looked back down at her menu. Alice was bouncing in her seat. "Everyone, this is my brother, Edward. Edward, you've obviously now met everyone."

Dr. Cullen smiled. He was about to say something else when the waitress appeared with our drinks. She put the Rum and Coke in front of me with a wink and Rosalie huffed. She passed out the other drinks and took Dr. Cullen's, flirtatiously. He ordered a screwdriver and Alice rolled her eyes when the waitress left.

"Only you would order something as gay as a screwdriver, Edward." She sighed.

"I'm a grown man, Alice, I can drink what I want." He shot back, playfully.

Emmett cut in. "So, Eddie, what do you do?"

Dr. Cullen cleared his throat and glanced at me. "I'm a psychiatrist."

I waited for Rosalie to say something about him being my psychiatrist when it occurred to me that I was the only one who'd ever seen him. I sensed a sweet victory in my future and did a little happy dance in my head. It looked oddly like the moves in Charlie Brown. I did wonder though, why Dr. Cullen hadn't said anything about being my therapist yet. Perhaps it was a confidentiality thing.

Rosalie got a wicked glint in her eyes. "Well, Bella sees a-"

"Dentist!" Emmett cut in, frantically. Rosalie glared at him and opened her mouth. Before she could say anything, Emmett stuffed a piece of bread in there. Good job, brother. I would have to get him something for his birthday now.

"Yeah, my dentist is a real douche bag though," I snuck a look at Dr. Cullen who was chuckling in to his Screwdriver. I couldn't help but think that I would like him to drive his screw into me. I turned red at my own thoughts. I honestly couldn't help it. "He's always trying to talk to me. His interest in me might be considered Ephebophilia."

Dr. Cullen choked on his drink. I smirked and sipped mine quietly. I savored the taste in my mouth before swallowing. Maybe I wouldn't need to get piss drunk tonight. I had the good doctor here to amuse me.

* * *

"Happy Birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday dear Jasper! Happy Birthday to you!" We all sang. Well, I wouldn't say we. I did not open my mouth for this delightful vocal extravaganza.

"Oh, you guys are great." Jasper laughed as he dug into his cake. "Really, I couldn't-"

"Just the up and eat your fucking cake." I hissed. Rosalie shot me the thousandth look of the night. Everyone else erupted in another round of laughter, including Dr. Cullen. I didn't see what was funny about it. Maybe they were all just too drunk to tell. I know Emmett wasn't driving home. He most definitely could not say the alphabet backwards to any cop. And I couldn't have two fuckers in jail.

"Oh, Bella, you kill me." Emmett was gasping for air. This made Alice and Jasper laugh harder. Everyone in the place was watching us with amusement. This night was never going to end if I didn't get out of here now. I stood up and tossed my napkin on to the table.

"I'm out." I announced. Emmett patted my arm and hiccupped.

"Don't do drugs." He warned me. I nodded and looked around to see if I was forgetting anything. I remembered I had my real and fake license in my bra along with a twenty. I tore out of that place and breathed in the fresh air once I was outside. I just spent two hours in a hot Italian hell with my therapist and my older brother, The Drunk. My bitchy sister in law called me a pig twice and her brother told me my roots were showing. My hair is the natural color, thank you. My heels clicked on the way to the children's center and I shook my head. I needed a car.

Not therapy.

* * *

**Hi, everyone! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I just want to make a quick announcement. The Silent Tear Awards are accepting nominations and if anyone would like to nominate any of my stories, please do so. Nominating ends on Saturday, people, so please hurry if you are going to nominate. I did not get my goal for reviews last chapter, and I think now that I had aimed a little high. Can I get at least ten reviews guys? It's really not that much.**

**Review! **


	4. This is Ridiculous

_Where were you born, in the state of fear…_

* * *

* * *

"Bella! I didn't expect to see you tonight." Esme, the children's center founder, gasped when I walked through the door. Esme founded the Seattle Children's Center when she turned twenty one and found out she couldn't ever have children. She used her trust fund money for construction and got all the paperwork from the state done by the time she was twenty three. She was a lovely woman, that cherished all the kids there every day. She made no money from this, except the money the state gave her for the children. She used most of her own cash to entertain them and keep them happy, normal kids.

"Yeah, sorry for the short notice. I was nearby and thought I could come hang out." I shrugged. The dress I was wearing wouldn't be uncomfortable if I was at a bar or talking to the working girls a few streets over. But I was fidgeting like crazy here. I pulled my cardigan tighter around my breasts and pulled my hair out of its band. Rosalie insisted my hair be pulled back tonight, and I had a headache from how tightly it had been styled. "If this is bad timing, I can go…"

"No, no! Please, I could use some help with the children. Leah and Emily aren't speaking. I'm buried in legal forms tonight, so do you think you could maybe go sort that out?" Esme asked me sweetly, gesturing towards the pile of paperwork on the front desk.

"No problem." I grinned, already on my way to the 'Living Room'. Esme designed the place to look like a real house. Bedrooms, a kitchen, a living room, a dining room. She only hired the most qualified child development experts in the area. I was still surprised she allowed me to spend so much time with the kids, even though I was an unemployed seventeen year old with an iffy background check.

I found Seth, Collin and Brady in the living room, watching TV. Seth was seven, and I wondered what he was doing with Collin and Brady who were four year old twins. They were watching SpongeBob, but Seth had this look on his face that explained all.

"Hey, big man," I murmured, sitting down on the couch next to him. I kicked my heels off and put them behind the couch for safe keeping. Seth didn't say anything, he just picked at a scab on his knee, intently. "Something wrong?"

He pouted, angrily. "Sam and Jacob said I couldn't play with them because I was a weenie. They said I'm a little baby and only big kids can play in their club."

I pursed my lips. "Where is there club?"

Seth pointed at the stairs. "In Sam's room. Him and Jacob locked the door and won't let me in."

I smoothed his unruly long black hair. "I'll go see what's going on, Seth. Don't worry. Oh, and do you know where Emily and Leah are?"

He shrugged. "I don't know where Leah is. But I think Emily is in her room."

"Thanks, buddy. I'll be right back." I assured him, getting up from the couch. I walked gently up the stairs, trying not to disturb the younger kids that were asleep on the first floor. I saw Charlotte, one of the caregivers tip toe out of the nursery. She waved at me, silently as I made my way to the second floor where Sam's room was.

I heard young voices behind the door, and I knocked. There was a bang and a the voices got louder.

"Go away, Seth!" I heard Jacob yell from the other side.

"It's Bella!" I told him, knowing that would get me in. Jacob had a horrible crush on me and every time I was here, he followed me like a lost puppy dog. He would do anything I said.

The door swung open and Jacob stood there with an adorable blush on his russet cheeks. I peered behind him and gasped. There were blankets over the beds and pillows all over the floor. Toys and games were scattered everywhere. I saw at least six little heads pop out from under blankets. I raised an eyebrow at Sam, who was standing on his bed like a warrior.

"What do you think you're doing?" I generally asked them. Sam crossed his arms. He had paint on his face and I held back a laugh.

"We're having a Quileute tribe meeting." He announced. "And you aren't invited."

Both eyebrows went up this time. I honestly wasn't sure if he was being serious or just a brat. A big group of the kids here are from the La Push reservation a little while away. There was a fire on the rez a few years back and most of the kids were taken here. Sam was the oldest boy rescued at twelve years old. Jacob and the rest of the boys in the room ranged from ten to eight, and Seth was only seven. Collin and Brady had been the youngest of the kids taken.

"Really? Seth is a member, why isn't he allowed in?" I demanded, crossing my arms right back at him.

"Because! Seth is a baby and only men are allowed in this tribe." Sam huffed. The other boys nodded, but Jacob stayed silent. I decided to corner him.

"Jake? Do you think you could let Seth in your room too? He is from your real tribe, you know?" I reminded him. Jacob's dad is Billy Black, he was injured too badly in the fire to take care of Jacob or his older sisters, Rebecca and Rachel. Billy was a good friend of my Dad's before he was arrested. They used to go fishing together on the dock with Emmett and Jacob.

My Aunt Sue was also married to one of the survivors, Harry Clearwater. She used to babysit Leah and Seth when they were younger, and had been trying to adopt them for months now.

"Don't do it, Jake!" Sam warned him.

Jacob shifted feet. "I guess he could, just this once."

Sam lunged off the bed and tackled Jacob, violently. They rolled around on the floor for a moment before I pulled Jacob off of Sam. He had successfully pinned him after their mindless two minute fight. I was impressed. Jacob was a year younger then Sam, after all.

"I'm the Chief and I say Seth comes in!" Jacob yelled. Sam glared at him and I snickered. Sam was a little snot, but he respected Quileute tradition. Jacob's Great Grandfather had been the last known Chief of there tribe, and Jacob was holding that against Sam. I was very impressed.

"Seth is in the tribe, end of discussion." I said, sternly as I let Jacob go. "Has anybody seen Leah?"

Embry popped his head out from under the bed. "She's putting make up on."

I didn't believe that for one second, but I left to go check the bathroom anyway. Sure enough, Leah was in there, unsuccessfully putting eyeliner on her lids. She was going all over the place and she looked like a clown. Leah was a complete tom boy, where as her cousin, Emily was very girly. I spent a lot of my time curling Emily's hair for her. I was shocked that Leah was even showing an interest in make up.

"Want some help?" I asked, leaning against the door frame. She looked back at me and scowled.

"I hate you." She mumbled.

My eyed widened. Leah might not be my kid and I might be a kid myself, but hearing Leah say that broke my heart. "Why?" I asked, softly. I went over to the counter and leaned against it. Leah threw down the eyeliner and glared at me.

"You're the reason Emily is so pretty! You're always curling her hair and picking out her outfits! That's why Sam dumped me!" She cried, her voice shooting up an octave.

I sighed. I knew exactly where this was going. "Sam broke up with you for Emily?"

Leah had tears welling up in her eyes. "Now I have to put this stupid crap on my face so he'll take me back!"

I leaned forward, cautiously and brushed Leah's bangs out of her eyes. She had tears running down her cheeks and I wiped them away. I knew exactly how it felt to be so hurt at that age. When I was twelve, Renee took me away from Dad to live with her and Phil. I was almost raped and my Father was sent to jail that same year. But I really couldn't imagine what Leah was going through. Her and Sam had been 'Dating' since they were two. Sam was her comfort zone and he dumped her for the pretty girl, who just happened to be her cousin.

"Leah, listen to me." I said, putting my hands on her shoulders. "You don't have to do anything for boys. If he doesn't like you, that's his problem. Don't ever be something your not to impress any guy, because they're not worth it. If he likes Emily, then be happy for Emily! I know it sucks, but sometimes you just have to deal with it. Chances are, he's going to get tired of Emily soon anyway."

Leah's lip quivered. "But he was _my _boyfriend. I told all the girls at school. I was cool because Sam was my boyfriend. Now I don't have a boyfriend and I'm going to be a huge loser!"

"Sam isn't worth it. Take it from me, honey. Boy's are stupid and only want one thing. Granted, you're a little young for them to be going after it, but he might be an early riser, if you know what I mean. They only want to get in your pants. And it's your choice whether you let them or not. Understand?" I demanded. "You're twelve years old. You have your whole life to fall in love. Sam is just a notch in your heart."

She nodded, sniffling. "But I have to see him every day, Bella."

I shrugged. "Ignore him. And if he says anything to you, tell me. I'll kick his ass. Better yet, you kick his ass. You have my full permission."

Leah laughed between her sniffles. "Okay. I'll try."

I smiled. "Do your worst, kid."

I left her to wipe the junk off her face and found Emily sitting on her bed, reading a book. She and Leah shared a room, just like Sam and Jacob did. I could only pray Leah didn't kill Emily in her sleep tonight. I knocked on the door frame and Emily looked up at me, smiling.

"Hey, Bella!" She chirped. "Look! I'm reading Romeo and Juliet. It's kind of hard to understand, but since they put me in advance placement, they told me to try reading this."

I grinned. "That's one of my favorites, Em. But can we talk for a minute?"

She set the book down and sat up. "Sure. Did you know Sam and I are dating?"

"Yeah, that's kind of what I wanted to talk to you about." I nodded. "I just talked to Leah."

Emily rolled her eyes. "She's mad because Sam dumped her. I told her, she needs to get over it. Sam wants me now."

I raised an eyebrow. "Leah was really upset. She was in tears, you know."

Emily's confident expression faltered. "Really? I didn't mean to make her cry."

I shook my head. "She isn't crying because of you. She's crying because of Sam. He really hurt her, Em."

"I didn't know how bad she felt. I just thought she was jealous I had a boyfriend now." Emily shrugged, fear building in her eyes. "Maybe I should talk to her."

She swung her legs over the side of the bed and ran down the hall to the bathroom. After a minute of hearing no yelling or screams, I decided it was okay to let them be. I jogged down the stairs and found Collin and Brady still in the living room, but Seth nowhere in sight. That was good.

"Hey, guys." I grinned, sitting down on the floor next to them. "Who's this?"

Collin smiled. "That's Johnny Test, silly."

"Johnny Test? Wow! Look at his crazy hair!" I cried, ruffling his black locks. He giggled and Brady reached over to tug my hair. I tugged his back, gently and he laughed. Esme came in, smiling.

"It's getting late, Bella. Would you like to stay the night? I'm sure the children would love that." She suggested.

I thought about it. Emmett was too trashed to even grasp that I wasn't there and Rosalie would probably be over the moon. I didn't have anything going on tomorrow, because it was a teacher work day. Collin and Brady were begging me to already, so I looked up at Esme and nodded.

"I'd love to."

* * *

"So, you volunteer at the Children's Center?" Dr. Cullen asked, smirking as I sat myself down on the couch.

I raised an eyebrow. "How did you…?"

He held up a hand to stop me. "My Mother runs the place. She mentioned a young girl by the name of Bella that stayed there the other night. I also saw you exiting the place yesterday morning on my way to work."

I sighed. "Yeah, I like hanging out with the kids. Wait, Esme is your Mom?"

Add that to the list of things I never wanted to know.

He nodded. "She sure is. I'm surprised Alice didn't say anything to you. She is incredibly fond of you, by the way."

I shrugged. "I don't really talk to anyone in that house about my life. Rosalie and Emmett only know I do because I tried to talk Rosalie into being a foster parent. She refused."

"Why do you like to help out there?" He asked, running a hand through his hair. I'd like to run my hands through that…

No! Bad Bella!

"I told you, I like the kids." I said, uncertainly. "Well…I guess if I think about it, I'd want someone to come talk to me if I was in a place like that. I mean, with the things those kids have gone through."

Dr. Cullen nodded, eagerly. "So, you feel you can relate to them?"

I shrugged. "I suppose. They're sweet kids, I wish someone would come in and take them home. Though I'd hate to see them separated. They're so attached to each other."

He smiled at me softly. "I think its wonderful that you spend your free time taking care of children."

"I think its wonderful you spend your free time taking care of me." I blurted out. He looked surprised.

"You think I'm taking care of you?" He asked, obviously touched.

"Well, that's what you're supposed to do, right?" I choked out, awkwardly. "Besides, don't you think this is a little awkward?"

He shook his head, letting his bronze locks shimmy with the movement. "Not in the least. We have family connections. They're loose enough that I'm not biased with your situation, but there tight enough that I can use my own personal information to relate and advise."

I laughed, nervously. "Well, you certainly have it figured out."

He leaned forward and put a comforting hand on my shoulder. "As corny as it sounds, Bella, I'm here for you. I am here to help you in any way you need."

I stared into his dark green eyes. They were always so light and open, but now they were so dark. They were smoldering and it was almost like I was hypnotized with his deep green orbs. I leaned forward the teensiest bit and he did the same. We were closer and closer before suddenly I realized our noses were touching. I shot back instantly and he straightened up.

He cleared his throat and pinched the bridge of his nose. It was incredibly sexy to see him so frustrated.

"I had plans for you today…" He murmured, going over to his desk and flipping through his notes. "Ah, yes! I'd like to address your Mother a little more, if that is possible."

I shook my head. "What's there to discuss?"

He sat back down, watching me. "In Rosalie's report, she expressed that you have an unnatural hatred towards your Mother. And in previous sessions, you have expressed the same. Can you tell me a little about your Mother?"

I shrugged, picking at a piece of lint on my sweater. I glanced around the room and noticed his PhD was crooked on the wall. "What do you want to know?"

He shook his head and shrugged at the same time. "What she looks like, maybe? How she acts or how she presents herself? Maybe a few little facts about her? It would all help me get to the source of your problems, aka your Step Father."

I rolled my eyes, but not in an annoyed fashion. I was simply thinking of anything I knew about my Mom that would make it seem like I knew her at all. "She has naturally red hair, but it's been blonde since I can remember. Her eyes are blue, but not a pretty blue. More like a sea green, kind of turquoise blue. She's always has a horrible spray tan all year round. She wears way too much make up and dresses like a show girl. I guess that's where I got my fetish for heels from."

He nodded, egging me on. "What about her behavior? And personal traits or pet peeves she has?"

"She's oblivious. She has no sense of direction and is completely unaware of everything around her. She has a new obsession every month. I remember she was particularly in to bondage and whips for a long time though. She used to bring men home when Phil wasn't around and the walls were so thin, it was either get the hell out or listen to Renee moan."

Dr. Cullen made a confused expression. "So she was cheating on your Step Father?"

"All the time. But it didn't matter, he was cheating on her too. Once, I was walking home through Central Park and I saw him with not one, not two, but three women! All at the same time, no less. It was a huge coincidence, considering he worked his ass off in Brooklyn, or so I was led to believe. We lived in the West Village, but more near Little Italy and SoHo. We were about to get evicted and I was pissed that they dragged me from Seattle to come live with them even though they didn't have a penny to their name."

"How did your Mother get custody if they were as down on their luck as you say?" He demanded, skeptically.

"Renee's Brother, my Uncle Alec, is a sleazy lawyer that does a lot of under the table business. He had some connections and got me out there in no time." I explained, throwing up my hands.

"And you're Uncle, did he ever hurt you?" Dr. Cullen asked, suddenly surprised by the new actor in the soap that was my life.

"Nah, Uncle Alec was pretty cool actually. He knew I didn't want to be there, but Renee was his sister and they were pretty tight. He brought me to work with him a few times and usually came and got me when Renee had a visitor. I first got there when I was eleven, and I didn't want to go walking through New York on my own."

"So, you have extended family?" He realized.

"Yeah, I have my Aunt Sue and my Uncle Alec. Plus, I have my Grandpa Nico in Little Italy. He came over in the forties with my Grandma and wanted to stay close to home, you know?" I shrugged.

Dr. Cullen looked at me over his black frames. "So, you're Italian?"

"Yeah, yeah, leave the gun, take the cannoli, I've heard it all." I waved him off. "And I have Renee's parents in Paris."

He chuckled, amazed. "You have quite a diverse background, I see. But we'll talk about that later on. We were talking about your Mother, remember? Can you tell me anything about her past?"

I shook my head. "All I know is that she was born in Manhattan while her Dad was on business and has been going back and forth ever since. She hates her Mother, so I guess that's just a genetic thing."

He frowned at me, disapprovingly. Before I could say anything else, the door creaked open. Angela peeked her head in, shyly. "Dr. Cullen? You're next appointment is here."

He stood up and smiled at me as Angela shut the door. "Well, I suppose our time is up. Have a good day, Bella. I'll see on Monday."

I hoisted my backpack over my shoulder and waved, awkwardly. I kicked myself, internally. Who _waves_ at people anymore? I mumbled a quick goodbye and thought about what I had said to him as I pulled out my phone to call Emmett. I had told him way more then I had planned, that was for sure. I never intended to tell him about Renee or her past or any of my family. This was insane. It was like all he had to do was look at me and he knew everything. I just felt so entirely comfortable with him, it was scary. Men were not in my comfort zone. Sure, having sex with them was one thing. But talking to them was completely different and horribly frightening.

Dr. Cullen was the exception.

* * *

You know how sometimes, you wish you had magic powers, just so you could zap yourself anywhere but where you are?

This was one of those times.

"Miss Swan," The teacher grumbled. "You are not getting out of this. What is the answer?"

I tried to do it in my head, but my thoughts were too jumbled up to even speak. I had been thinking about the strange dream I had last night and not paying the least bit of attention to Calculus. I didn't even know what the problem was. My dream was consuming my thoughts and I was sure my face was permanently stained red.

***

"_Do you have anything you'd like to share with me, my love? Like, perhaps those beautiful breasts you have, teasing me through that sweater?" Dr. Cullen purred. We were in his office and I was lying on the couch like always. Dr. Cullen was sitting in his chair without a shirt on. He got up out of the chair and stalked over to the couch where he kneeled over me and pressed himself on to my body. Just the smell of him drove me absolutely wild with want, and I whimpered as he peppered my neck with delightful little kisses. It was the sheer anticipation that made it unbearable. _

"_Are you going to answer me?" He asked, seductively. That gorgeous crooked smile appeared on his face and I just about melted. His voice was like honey, saturating my very core. His hair was so soft like silk and I ran my fingers through it as he repeated himself. Only this time, his voice was lower._

"_Are you going to answer me?" He demanded, a lot gruffer then the first or second time. Suddenly, the material under me was cold and I felt tile digging into my back. I glanced around and saw the familiar setting of the Renee's kitchen in New York. I closed my eyes and squeezed them so tightly shut, I saw stars behind my lids. I wouldn't dare look back up, because the weight on my waist was much heavier and roughly shifted._

"_Are you going to answer me?" I knew what voice. I peeked my eyes open and saw Phil sitting once again on my little thirteen year old body. I was lying under him helplessly. I realized I was seriously thirteen again. My hair was a short, wispy mess and I could feel the eyeliner caked on my lids. I struggled under him and he slapped me across the face. Before anything could happen…_

_***_

I woke up.

"Are you going to answer me?" The teacher snapped. My eyes welled up and I couldn't breathe.

"Miss Swan!" The teacher barked. "Answer me, or pack up your things and go to the office."

I was boiling. It was an impulse, but I did it. I grabbed my bag off the back of my chair and stormed out of the room in tears. Remembering that night so vividly made me want to curl up in a ball and die. That say, my life was ruined. Everyone I was associated with had their lives ruined. I choked back my tears and went to the office, dutifully. Mrs. Cope, the secretary wasn't surprised when I came through the door. She looked at my watery eyes sympathetically and pressed the button for the intercom.

"Principal Garner?" She said. "Bella Swan is here to see you."

I didn't wait for her to say anything. I just walked into the office and sat right down in the chair. I didn't care that the Principal was watching me, I burst into tears. Principal Garner was a young woman and she had been informed by Emmett about my sudden bursts of emotion. She didn't know the whole story, but she knew that I couldn't help it. She reached across her desk and patted my arm.

"Would you like me to call your Brother?" She asked, softly. She smoothed out her kinky black hair, thoughtfully. She had an infatuation with Emmett that I wanted nothing to do with. I shook my head. There was only one person I wanted to talk to.

"Can you call a Dr. Cullen for me?"

* * *

I was sitting in Dr. Cullen's Volvo, bawling my eyes out on to his shoulder. I was shocked when he answered the phone and right away said he would be honored to come and get me. He pulled up in his shiny silver car and had been comforting me for the last ten minutes. It seems like no matter how hard I cried, it just wouldn't end. The water just kept on leaking out, causing me to gasp for breath and mumble things in Dr. Cullen's shoulder.

"What happened, Bella?" He murmured, smoothing my hair back.

I gasped for air and he patted my back. "Last night, I just had this horrible dream. I was thirteen again and Phil was on top of me! Y-you were there and it started really good without a shirt and then it was cold and I was scared and I didn't know who else to call!"

He made a soft shhhh noise and gently wiped my tears away. "Start from the beginning. You had a dream that started very nicely…?"

I couldn't stop myself. It just shot out of my mouth. "We were about to have sex in your office and then all of a sudden you were Phil and we were in the kitchen again. I was thirteen and Dad wasn't there, so it was really going to happen! I woke up crying and I've been jumping out of my seat all day. I'm just so…scared."

He was silent for a moment. Then he very calmly asked. "We were having sex?"

I his myself in his chest, too embarrassed to look at him. I inhaled his scent, hoping to keep it with me for times of comfort. "I know it seems weird, but it just happened and-"

And I couldn't think of an excuse. Because truth be told, having sex with Dr. Edward Cullen would be the only thing I could ever be sure about.

* * *

"Vodka." I grumbled as I pulled myself on to one of the bar stools. I was at Peter's Pints, my regular bar in downtown Seattle. It was a Mom and Pop business, run by Peter and his wife Charlotte. I've been coming here for about a year now, so Peter and Charlotte were pretty familiar with me. I banged my head on to the oak paneling of the bar counter and Peter set my shot down in front of me. He leaned over on both elbows and raised an eyebrow.

"What's the matter, cupcake?" He asked in his thick Boston accent. I downed the tiny drink, savoring the burn as it went down my throat I banged it back down on the table and Peter refilled it. He knew I was underage, but he could care less. No one ever came in and checked on the place, so he was free to do what he wanted.

"Everything, Peter." I groaned. "I wish I didn't exist."

He put his chin on his fist. "Should I call a hotline?"

I banged my head back down after downing another shot. "No." I mumbled into the wood. I heard heels clicking behind me and the squeak of the stool next to me turning.

"Bella, doll, what's the matter?" I heard Charlotte ask as she smacked her gum. I peeked up at her and almost smile at her comforting attire. Her blond hair was curled and teased, wild all around her head. Her blue eyes did not contrast well with the horribly eighties blue eye shadow caked around her lids. She had a light, but not subtle pink lipstick on that actually went well with her skin tone.

Peter and her were perfect for each other. Charlotte was just so…Charlotte. And Peter loved her to death, that was for sure. Peter had slicked back blonde hair that looked oily and dirty in my light. He had a thin mustache and bushy eyebrows that made him even more irresistible to Charlotte. He was wearing a dark gray sweater with a black vest, while Charlotte sported a bubble gum pink and brown leopard print dress that hugged her nicely.

They opened the business a few years back when they won the lottery in Boston. They packed up their van and moved to a place where they could start over and make a name for themselves. Seattle seemed like a nice choice apparently, because they've been here ever since. Charlotte was in nursing school actually. She got tired of being second string in the bar business and wanted to try her luck at medicine. She was pretty good actually. A few months back, a guy roughed me up pretty good out back and Charlotte stitched me up. Emmett never even asked when I got the stitches.

"Boy problems? Listen, sweet cheeks, he ain't worth it. Whoever he is, wherever he is, forget about him!" Peter exclaimed. I smiled a little. Only Peter would give me such big brother advice. Emmet certainly wouldn't.

"It's not boy problems, Petey, I know boy problems." Charlotte rolled her eyes. "She's got the blues."

"The blues?" He asked.

"The blues! She needs some more to drink. Petey, get on it." Charlotte ordered him. He complied, pulling out a few bottles from under the counter and setting them in front of me.

"This is your wonderland, baby." He grinned. "Take your pick. Anything, on the house!"

I grabbed a bottle of Whiskey and drank it straight. Charlotte gave me a snort like laugh when I winced at the taste. It might have been sour and rough, but it got the job done. I was getting good and drunk tonight.

Earlier, after the Volvo/Sex Dream fiasco with Dr. Cullen, I went home to get changed. Rosalie was in the kitchen with Alice. Alice tried to wave me in and talk, but I ignored her. I went straight to my room and threw my backpack on the ground before riffling through my closet for something appropriate to wear. I figured, if I'm getting drunk tonight, I probably won't remember who I hooked up with. But, a girl like me has to make herself appealing to certain audiences. I'm no Rosalie. Thank the Lord for that.

I had put on fresh make up and a dangerously short dress, making sure it was cheap and easy to take off. Tonight, all I wanted was a quick and easy man, who didn't give a damn about what I wanted. Oh, wait.

That's all men.

When Charlotte finally left me to sulk and Peter tended to other customers orders, the seat next to me was once again filled. The man had greasy blonde hair and big, beaty black eyes. He had to be in his thirties of forties, judging by his small beer belly. He wore a wedding ring, which meant this guy was safe and he probably didn't have any STD's. Most likely, he probably had his nuts hacked, if you know what I mean. Older guys like him are usually out to experiment with what his wife feels uncomfortable with. He probably even had a few kids around my age. Boy, do I feel sorry for those kids.

But, he was the best I could get tonight.

****

"Do you understand?" I heard his gruff voice demand as he tied my hands to the headboard. I liked this position. Being submissive was the best, really it was. It was a perfect situation for me and probably thousands of other women. Being tied down, I felt so completely helpless, but yet so massively in control. This guy was tending to _me_. No matter what sort of pleasure he took from it, he was serving me. It sent chills down my spine.

It was like a high I hated to come down from. I was never particularly attracted to the men in general, but the way they acted. They acted as if they were used to being in charge. It was exhilarating, like I had a secret they couldn't get out of me. I was in charge, not them. They were here for me and it was exciting. I didn't pay too much attention to what was happening to my body. That part wasn't very good until my release. It seemed like I had to get through a lot of pointless movement before I finally felt it build up and rock my world so entirely.

I liked to go other places while this happened. My head was buzzing from the alcohol, but was still pretty coherent. I vaguely remember Charlotte calling a cab for me, but sneaking away before she could make me enter it. She didn't like me going to motels with these men. It was scary, for me and for everyone around me. I knew I scared Emmett half to death every night when he didn't know where I was. And Peter and Charlotte were like two watchful guardians, always making sure I was safe in their bar under their watch. But outside, they didn't know what I was doing. And Dad? God only knows how he feels. I know Emmett tells him things when he visits him. I know Rosalie even spat a few words out the rare times she went with Emmett. But I had to do these things for me.

I had to do these things for life to make sense.

A perk with older guys is that they're experienced. They aren't fumbling with the condom and timidly groping me all night long. They take charge, and they take charge efficiently. It made me feel important.

Sometimes, if you find a Father or a husband, they make sure you're alright before you leave. A few times, men have gotten me coffee or something to eat afterwards. It's usually the Father's that do this, because c'mon, if you're cheating on your wife, how caring can you be? One time, a man held back my hair while I vomited in the bathroom. I had gotten sick from the drinking that night, but he didn't seem to mind. That whole evening was ruined, however, when I burst into tears at this meaningless gesture of kindness. I had been so touched that he would actually hold my hair back, that it made me wonder what it would be like to really be in love. Real, passionate, live love.

Emmett and Rosalie were in love. Rosalie was heartless bitch, but she took care of Emmett and that made me feel safe. Emmett doted on her, he would kill for his Rose.

Were Renee and Phil in love? I couldn't tell you. It didn't look like it, and I doubted they even could be. But no one stays together that long for convenience. There was a spark there and I knew deep down those two ass wipes were meant for each other in a sick, conniving way.

As I let thoughts and memories take over my mind, I recalled him asking me a question.

No, sir.

No, I don't understand.

* * *

**Beautiful people, thank you for reading. I'd really appreciate it if you reviewed though. Reviews put smiles on my face and they make Bella understand. Note: I do not live in New York City and I get all my information from Law and Order. But, I do have strange obsession with the city, so if you live there and want to give me some fun little facts, feel free to do so. I'm looking for names of apartment buildings and restaurants. If you can give me any, thank you. I hope I kick start your Monday!**

**Review!**


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